


He's a Homewrecker

by beastlybolt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 80s-90s music, Alcohol, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Cheating, Cheating!Reader, F/M, Female Reader, Homewrecker!Dean, Light Angst, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pool hustling, Porn With Plot, Reader Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 04:44:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11328864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlybolt/pseuds/beastlybolt
Summary: "He's - my, my best friend I don't - don't think,fuckI don't care, just fuck me now, please baby, ride me, it's been too long, I want you," Dean pants in your mouth, yanking your jeans down whilst struggling to zip his zipper down and unbutton his awful in-the-way khakis. You nod frantically, hurriedly, as he palms your breasts and murmurs a softdamn, they fit in my hands so perfect.Skin touching, clothes fumbling, dirty words exchanged with harsh breaths in one another's mouths. Crawling up on to his lap, you feel so sexy having him look at you as if you're Aphrodite and looking at your body as if he were a virgin that hasn't seen or touched a woman before. They wander up at your naked chest but linger on your eyes. When your eyes met you actuallythinkfor the first time about what you're doing, what he's doing, what you're both about to do.or,The one where falling in love with his best friend's soon-to-be-wife wasn't a good part of Dean Winchester's life that he was proud of. He just hoped taking her home would be the right choice. Becauseeverythinggood happens after two a.m.





	He's a Homewrecker

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I would just like to make one thing clear- **Cheating is bad.** I in no way want to encourage people to cheat, and this is literally just fiction. Please treat it that way.  
>  Oh, and I love INXS, you should totally listen to the song linked later on. I love them, and the story described is true, just look them up.  
> If you don't know who Sean Bateman is, I encourage you to watch The Rules of Attraction (2002). It's got nudity, drugs, violence, suicide scene (your typical college movie lol) so if you cannot look past that, it's ok. It's fucking awesome imo, and Sean is hot, okay? I made him and Dean best buds cause hey, they remind me of eachother and I thought they'd get along. I'm not sure how I'll continue this, but I'll try. The idea came up after hearing about a female homewrecker (aka a girl who slept with her best friend's husband) and I thought, why the hell not the other way around? Anyway, enjoy maybe. I'm not perfect so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

"He's - my, my best friend I don't - don't think, _fuck_ I don't care, just fuck me now, please baby, ride me, it's been too long, I want you," Dean pants in your mouth, yanking your jeans down whilst struggling to zip his zipper down and unbutton his awful in-the-way khakis. You nod frantically, hurriedly, as he palms your breasts and murmurs a soft _damn, they fit in my hands so perfect._

Skin touching, clothes fumbling, dirty words exchanged with harsh breaths in one another's mouths. Crawling up on to his lap, you feel so sexy having him look at you as if you're Aphrodite and looking at your body as if he were a virgin that hasn't seen or touched a woman before. They wander up at your naked chest but linger on your eyes. When your eyes met you actually _think_ for the first time about what you're doing, what he's doing, what you're both about to do. 

"Why're you stopping? Was' wrong?" Dean holds your hip with one hand and brings the other up to brush through your hair then cup your cheek in his warm palm.

You sigh drunkenly, high off the electricity between the two of you and brush his hair in return. "Remember what I told you my mom said. 'Bout how nothing good happens after two a.m.," you lick your lips and don't miss Dean's gaze on your tongue flick. "Well it's," you side eye the clock by the bed, "two fifty seven, and you're just - you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." Drunk Dean downright growls right when you finish your sentence, crushing his lips back to yours leaving the sound of smacking and the bed slightly creeking as you grind yourself into his lap. But deep down, where sober Dean is hiding in the dwells of his brain had _blushed_ like the stupid love struck fuck he is. The poor man can't seem to come up with any reply, other than:

"Fuck me, fuck me now God please -"

And she does.

Forgetting about the engagement ring still cozy fitting on her ring finger.

 

 

_Three Hours Earlier_

 

"What? That's insane! Sean proposed, everybody!" Charlie announced to the entire bar, giving your scalp a friendly noogie as you giggle and tell her to back off. As soon as Charlie finishes her sentence the entire bar hoorays, and your friends circle you all to get a turn to say congratulations. 

"Congrats there, darlin'! Sean's a really lucky man!" Benny came over and nearly halts your breathing with his humongous bear hug; You've never quite experienced hugs until you'd met the man. 

"Okay, okay thanks Ben, really appreciate it and all but um- can I take a breather?" You choke out, finally getting your feet on the ground again as he lets you down. Sam comes over, as well as Ellen, Sam, Kevin, Chuck, Gabe, and lastly Jo. The Roadhouse was filled with other patrons that raised their glasses to make a cheers for you. 

"Hey you guys, where's Dean?"

"Probably out with the fiancé himself," Benny chimes in. 

"That's true. They've been best friends for years, going out to The Lucky Lady every Friday night's just their thing. Sean's probably all you're talking about right this second," assures Sam. You smile and nod. Dean and Sean have been inseparable after meeting at The Lucky Lady after Dean hustled Sean at pool the entire night. After Sean stole all his money and Rolex back before punching him in the face, Dean insisted they become friends and team up. It's a weird story from start to finish that you weren't sure you believed, but after being introduced to both boys you thought there's definitely a possibility of those two crazies pulling off something like that. 

 

 

_Meanwhile...._

 

"Can you believe that this exact day, at this exact place five years ago, we met and I kicked your ass?" Dean sassed, slapping his best friend on the shoulder causing the poor man to miss his shot with the aligned pool cue and stick.

"Goddammit Winchester," Sean laughed. "You owe me one for that. And by the way, wasn't _I_ the one that kicked your sorry ass to the curb when you stole all my shit?" Dean gave a little mischievous shrug then grabbed his beer bottle to take a sip, finding it empty. 

"Another round?" Dean asks.

"Course, on me. Get me one of those when they mix it with some soda."

"Cherry coke?" Dean estimates. 

"You know me." Sean nods with a grin. Dean reciprocates the smugness to his friend and saunters his way semi-drunkenly over to the bar to order. Being here, at one of his favorite bars in town (besides The Roadhouse of course; Jo and Ellen have a special spot in his heart.) with one of his bestest friends just couldn't be any better. Nothing would ruin it. Nothing at all-

"Thanks man. Oh, I have somethin' to tell you," Sean combs his dirty blonde hair with his fingers and catches a giddy, excited expression on his face. Dean looks up at him expecting something little, like a job promotion or something, but looking at his face that can't be it. Can't be it at all. Soon Dean results in paying more attention to the pool cues on the fuzzy green surface, eyeing it down right before he takes a shot. "I'm marrying Y/N." 

Dean misses. 

Heart hammering in his ears, he readjusts himself, trying to stop the sweat quickly building on his forehead as he turns around. "Yeah? That's ah, that's - that's awesome man. How'd you... yunno, do it?" He laughs uneasily. God, why the fuck did he have to get this way about _Sean's girl?_

Sean sits on the nearest stool and shakes his head, looking down at his lap. 

"It's - Man, it went down so quick. But in the good way, you know? We just got done with it, she was all sweaty and out of breath in my bed, and it just happened. I asked her to marry me. I gave her my grandma's ring, and just _seeing_ her wear it just made me feel so, so -"

".... In love?" Dean asks, face blank and body tense. 

"Yeah," Sean wipes a hand over his face to get ahold of himself. "Yeah. So anyway, just wanted you to know that you're the best man," he says, nudging Dean's shoulder with his elbow. Dean forces a smile on his face. It's for his best friend. 

"That's great. That's so awesome, I'm really happy for you man. Ah, just outta curiosity, where is she right now? Home?" He's got such bad ideas brewing in his mind, but he can't go without at _least_ talking to her about this. 

"Nah, she's at the Roadhouse with her gang and your little bro Sam I think," he takes a drink of his cherry cola flavor beer. "She's breaking the news to all of them too. We wanted friends to know before family, cause family can get nauseating but in the loving way, you know?" He laughs. 

"Yeah, right. Um, you mind if I drop in there tonight or so and see her in person? I wanna tell 'er about how gushy you got when you broke the news to ol' Winchester," Dean shoves his thumb to his own chest. 

Sean laughs. "Yeah man, she'd wanna see you. Go for it," he confirms. 

Dean allows Sean to finish the game of pool and his drink before declaring his exit, heading back out with his leather coat in hand and pride just out the window. 

 

"Hey, Dean's here." Sam notices the impala outside getting put in park. 

"Sam you have to keep your mouth shut about Y/N and Sean's wedding," Charlie warns, not unkindly lowering her voice. "He can't know. It'll really really _really_ tear him apart." 

Sam gives her a look. "Charlie, what are you talking about?"

Charlie sighs, scooting closer. "He's just - he's got a little crush, ok? No one can know. No questions asked, but he got really wasted at my house one night and it's all he talked ab- hiya, Dean!" She interrupts herself, getting up to give Sam's older brother a hug. 

"Hey Red," he greets. "What's a guy gotta do to get some whiskey 'round here?" 

"Coming right up!" Jo begins getting a glass for him to pour it up.

"Dude, by the looks of it you've already had quite a few," Charlie laughs as she looks him up and down, the disheveled look on his hair and clothes suggest he's not completely there. Dean shrugs. He sits down at the bar, lingering to see if Sean was right, if she's really here. He could go over to his friends, the very few that are there at this hour. Charlie, Sam and Jo are left, but Jo doesn't count much because she's still working, serving and taking beverage or dinner orders. Before Dean decides to fuck it, leave this place, go home and sulk all by himself like the lonely single pathetic man he is; There you are, almost bumping into another woman as you stroll out of the swinging door of the bathroom. He sees you from afar quickly apologizing and asking she were okay, to which she assures that yes, she's fine. Dean's mouth lifts at the corners; always so kind, polite. Not the type of girl Dean could ever jump up and down to get, but the type to settle for an awesome, down-to-earth but badass guy like his best friend Sean Bateman. 

Once you both make eye contact you walk over to him.

"Hey you, long time no see," You smile, opening your arms silently asking for a hug. It never mattered how familiar or unfamiliar the person may be, you've always been a hugger. 

"Hey Y/N. Heard the ah, heard the big news. Congrats."

You gush down at the new ring sitting snug around your finger. "Yeah, I can't believe it you know? We've been together for so many years, as you know."

"Since start of college," Dean marvels, whistling in an appreciative tone at the length of time between now and then. You nod and smile down at your lap, biting your lip. Dean feels miserable doing this. _Small talk._ He hates this, he hates missing the days when you two would actually _talk_.

Soon a [song](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=NJ62S3A9wn0) comes on, a slight faint tune that fills the silence, and you quickly beg Jo to turn it up for you as soon as you recognize it. 

"You won't regret it, Harvelle," you laugh as she rolls her eyes playfully, turning up the stereo for you and you thank her. 

Dean smiles at the whole ordeal, looking at you in slight awe at the pure enjoyment all over your face. You softly mouth the lyrics, starting small but then exaggerating for Dean's entertainment. 

"Who are these guys? 'Inks', am I right?" He asks.

"INXS, dude, get it right!" You scold, snapping along with the beat.

"What?"

"It's In-X-S," Clarifying one last time before singing their lyrics. 

"Oh."

"Never Tear Us Apart, baby! It's only a classic! Jesus, do you have any pop culture knowledge at all whatsoever?" 

"Pfft. You're asking _me_ , the King of Movie References, about pop culture. For shame, Y/N, for shame."

"I didn't get like ONE Star Wars reference, sue me."

Dean shakes his head and then before he knows it, tosses it back with a full body laugh that almost has him falling off the chair. 

This, Dean thinks, is familiar. Not boring, suicidal small talk. This. 

"Hey, what's the story of the guy who's singin'?"

"Of Michael Hutchence? Oh, boy it's tragic. I read that he fell in love with this older woman who he was having an affair with, she was cheating on her husband with him and Mike just got head over heels for her," you explained. "They had a kid together, and Michael wanted custody of all four, the three she had with her ex-husband and the one that belonged to him. Soon the girl, I forgot her name - Paula something? I'm not a hundred percent sure - anyway, called him one day to say that she couldn't give him the kids, so he hung himself in the hotel bathroom. Pretty weird, huh?" Dean agrees, cringing at the end of your story. 

"Jeesh, that's really rough. Those love triangle stories just - never really end well, do they?" Dean silently kicks himself. (Just what are you hinting at, Winchester?)

"In real life, totally," you grab his whiskey and take a gulp for yourself, making a face at the taste to which Dean forces himself not to comment on. "But you know what happens in the movies. The good guy gets the girl, or the good girl gets the main guy," you trail off.

"Yeah. I guess. But sometimes it's just... unclear who the good one is. You never know everyone's a bad guy in someone else's story."

You hum. "No one likes a home wrecker, though."

"I really, really missed our talks. Ones like these. I dunno, they're simple and pretty stupid but, they really make my day. Well, in this case night. It's nearly," he takes a look at his watch attached to his wrist. "Two a.m., Jesus I should get home soon!"

You laugh at that. "My mom used to always say this thing to me, life lessons taught by Mom and all that, that um. Nothing good _ever_ happens after two a.m. Like, if anything comes up by then, don't do it. Just go home." You smile nostalgically at the memory. Dean mumbles something you couldn't hear. "But I missed this too, Dean. Us. This," you gesture vaguely to the space between the two of you. "I don't know what happened but, Sean's just been getting me so busy lately, I haven't gone out in weeks. Months even. We've changed. Grown up,"

Dean puts his hand over yours where it sits palm-flat on the table wordlessly. Meeting eyes makes you feel hot nearly everywhere. Your cheeks, chest...

"Come back to my place."

Sighing and at the beginning of a decline, Dean interrupts.

"Please. Just. For old time sake," he pleads. "Watch some old movies, maybe listen to a little bit of that Inks music you were just going on about not too long ago," Dean lists.

"INXS," you correct him with a laugh. 

"Whatever!" 

"..... So's that a yes?"

"Dean, I don't...."

"C'mon."

"I've got work, y'know, really weird hours,"

"Quit makin' excuses and hang out with a good friend you haven't hung out with in forever."

You want to give in. Want to go back home with him and just talk, catch up, but you couldn't. Sean is what you should want to go home with. Sean is who you should be with right now. 

"I'm pretty offended you're hesitating right now, if I were a chick you'd be jumping up and down with a yes a long time ago."

"Dean, shut up."

"It's sexist!"

"OKAY! Okay, I'll - 'hang out' for another hour, but after that you're driving me home Mister." You give in, giving in to his leering, pleading green eyes and his sweet smirk and faint stench of whiskey on his breath. Pumping his fist in the air like The Breakfast Club in triumph as he exits the bar with you on his tail, you just cannot believe you almost forgot how much of a dork Dean Winchester can really be. As you enjoy the ride in his precious, precious 'Baby' he lets you put on more eighties or nineties music to softly play in the background. You check the time on his watch and, yep, two in the morning. 

_Just tell him to take you home._ Nothing _good happens from here on out._

The whiskey you drank from Dean's cup tells you otherwise. 

 

_Present_

 

"He's - my, my best friend I don't - don't think, _fuck_ I don't care, just fuck me now, please baby, ride me, it's been too long, I want you," Dean pants in your mouth, yanking your jeans down whilst struggling to zip his zipper down and unbutton his awful in-the-way khakis. You nod frantically, hurriedly, as he palms your breasts and murmurs a soft _damn, they fit in my hands so perfect._

Skin touching, clothes fumbling, dirty words exchanged with harsh breaths in one another's mouths. Crawling up on to his lap, you feel so sexy having him look at you as if you're Aphrodite and looking at your body as if he were a virgin that hasn't seen or touched a woman before. They wander up at your naked chest but linger on your eyes. When your eyes met you actually _think_ for the first time about what you're doing, what he's doing, what you're both about to do. 

"Why're you stopping? Was' wrong?" Dean holds your hip with one hand and brings the other up to brush through your hair then cup your cheek in his warm palm.

You sigh drunkenly, high off the electricity between the two of you and brush his hair in return. "Remember what I told you my mom said. 'Bout how nothing good happens after two a.m.," you lick your lips and don't miss Dean's gaze on your tongue flick. "Well it's," you side eye the clock by the bed, "two fifty seven, and you're just - you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." Drunk Dean downright growls right when you finish your sentence, crushing his lips back to yours leaving the sound of smacking and the bed slightly creeking as you grind yourself into his lap. But deep down, where sober Dean is hiding in the dwells of his brain had _blushed_ like the stupid love struck fuck he is. The poor man can't seem to come up with any reply, other than:

"Fuck me, fuck me now God please -"

And she does.

Forgetting about the engagement ring still cozy fitting on her ring finger.


End file.
